Ten of a Hundred
by Kuro49
Summary: For RK Fest 2010. RK. Every encounter needed love, otherwise this could be blasphemy for all we know.


For the RK Fest of both 2010 and all the years to come ;D Thank you to the entire RK Fest planners who made this come true, once again. I took the liberty of the 100 themes, chose ten and made a fic out of it! Yes… this is a big stir pot of messy RK love.

I need to give myself a little praising and a little self-appreciation because I can't believe that I actually wrote something for these two again after… about six months. So I really have no idea how in character they are… D:

XXX

**Ten of A Hundred**

XXX

_1. Believe_

000

"He is rude, inconsiderate, and outrageously mean!"

Allen spooned pudding into his mouth with a vicious aggravation that Rabi had never seen in the boy. A small smile later and he easily defended the man that wasn't present, for the moment that is. "Yuu-chan can be nice too."

Another spoonful of pudding and he pointed his clean spoon out at the window as he made a wild arc with the silver. "Yeah, and then the sun will rise from the west."

He propped his cheek in the palm of his hand as he reconsidered the thought and the smile stretched into a genuine grin. This was his sole belief. "Yeah, maybe that's al' that it'll take."

000

_2. Casual_

000

Along side of a casual flip of his long black hair, Kanda came in with an entrance. The door remained a gaping opening behind him and his eyes were searching for something.

Like casualties on the fields, his existence was definite. There needed to be red among the black and white. And he found it at the end of the hall where those easy quirks of grinning lips resided.

These simple things in his complicated life were also the things that he could depend on the most when things came down.

000

_3. Caught_

000

Rabi looked up with the lingering effects of the war, a constant plague that wrapped its slender grip across his throat. The room seemed to be suffocating with the stench of death.

But it hardly meant anything anymore because at times when he saw the dead more than he caught a glimpse of the living, death couldn't mean as much as it should.

"Yuu…"

Allen turned his head at the soft syllable that slipped from Rabi's lips.

And the after effects of war suddenly washed back to shore because they would catch up to the other and living became the only thing that mattered.

000

_4. Close_

000

The crowd parted easily for him on a whim, one that had engraved itself in their very actions. As he walked through, they closed in around him, like flesh that was wrapping around the knife that had went through and through.

Kanda stopped at their table and rested a gloved hand on the tabletop.

The knife did not twist in the wound and Kanda calmly gestured for Rabi to follow.

He stood up and saw the flickers of emotions that did not belong to the blue. He knew that sometimes, the knife would go in, far deeper than what any of them had anticipated.

In the end, the pain had hurt so bad that there was nothing to do but endure it.

000

_5. Control_

000

They had made their way through the crowds, hushed at the rare silent commotion they made. Conversation didn't seem to fit and Rabi had no heart to wreck the tantalizingly peaceful mood that Kanda had created.

But he lost it.

Curiosity wound itself on his conscience and he lost the control to stay silent.

"You're scaring me, Yuu."

000

_6. __Duty_

000

He knew it would come. But it became a duty for him to drag it on, for as long as possible. Kanda paused in his steps, the worn carpets felt flat beneath the soles of his boots. "Give me a moment."

It was his only excuse.

As close as it could get, his confrontations would always follow his revelation, hand in hand. Rabi did not slow down and he paced forward, until Kanda was looking at his back. He did not need to speak.

"Ten sec— give me one hundred seconds."

There should be a protest, a whine, an overflowing desire to find out. But things fell short of expectations and Rabi had only turn his head to grin over his shoulders.

"Take your time, Yuu."

000

_7. Experiment_

000

Blue eyes, black lashes and a span of skin, free of scars, that stretched across the fragile neck. He waited for him to catch up.

Three steps and Rabi was looking at him up close.

The glimmer in the blue eyes, the flutter of those lashes, the decaying veins beneath that stretch of skin. He knew the horrid histories of the Order and the inhumane human testing that selected exorcists had to go through, all in the name of science and the greater good of the world.

Kanda Yuu was an experiment gone wrong and Rabi had accepted him for every single flaw.

000

_8. Height_

000

He looked up and saw that green eye staring down at him, intently.

The two centimetres in height was all that kept them apart.

But they were a world apart. He was suffering with an inward spiral of contemplations. The curse gripped the flesh and he was rewinding back to the past. And he, Rabi was in a world of his own where words and phrases served as his only acceptance.

The height difference came down to nothing as Rabi leaned down and rested his lips over his.

000

_9. Morning_

000

Sometimes, Kanda would wake up one morning and kick him to the ground. He would demand why the damn rabbit was in his bed as he drew Mugen from its sheath, all because he had forgotten that they were, in fact, in love.

Rabi's memory served to contain his frustrations because he could tell that Yuu was working hard on his aspect too, to let go of the past of do-or-die and care for someone in return.

His placed a hand on Yuu's chest and felt a heartbeat that resounded beneath his fingertips.

000

_10. Skin_

000

A small push, a swallowed encouragement, and his back was against the wall of the hall. Kanda glared into the green, refusing to be pushed into submission. He had a will of his own and the venomous warning was laced into his speech. "What're you doing, Rabi?"

"Healing you." The smile did not dim, his hand nestled between the crook of his neck. Kanda turned his head to avoid the skin-to-skin contact and protested with a definite edge to each word. "I'm fine on my own."

"I know."

But the red head never pulled away.

The black leather that they both wore was cold to the touch but underneath the clothes, the skin felt warm, uncharacteristically hot even, like a fever that was burning just for him.

XXX Kuro

Heck, this probably made no sense... but I still wish everyone: **Happy RK Fest!~**


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